


have your dream come true?

by rpshoodini



Category: Joker Game (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Dreams, Friendship, Gen, Kaminaga enjoys Miyoshi's companion, Kaminaga/Miyoshi if you squint, Miyoshi and Kaminaga work together, What-If, spies being spies, the rating is there for slight violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-20 00:26:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7383595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rpshoodini/pseuds/rpshoodini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Say, Miyoshi,” the taller man at last broke the silence, struggling to form words through uneven breath, “was it really necessary for you to smash a fucking <i>window</i>?”</p><p>Kaminaga and Miyoshi were sent together by Yuuki on another mission--which ended up not as smoothly as Kaminaga thought it would be, but nonetheless didn't catch much of his interest. However on their journey back home, an encounter with unlikely fellows brought up old memories to Kaminaga, hence reminding him of some paths not taken and how they affect his life afterwards.</p>
            </blockquote>





	have your dream come true?

**Author's Note:**

> And here is to the rare shippers of Kaminaga and Miyoshi; raise your voices! These guys need more screentime!  
> Yep, I bet you've already known it; the window-breaking scene is based on the anime ED. Seriously tho Miyoshi, no one is allowed to look that fabulous while breaking windows.

Step. Turn. _Run_.

Clouded by obvious uneasiness and anxiety, a mysterious male figure appeared dashing out of a small shop he used to be hiding in. His footsteps were rushed and his breath seemed to be quicker than normal, he didn’t spare a glance to his surroundings. The main street was crowded with people, given the fact that it was a warm Saturday evening. No one would actually pay attention to a mere civilian strolling alone in a busy district, however taking precaution, the man turned to a much smaller and dark alley, away from the festivities, drunken laughs, and bright red neon lights.

_Srrk._

Strange sounds of rustling came from behind said figure. A bead of sweat rolled down his already freezing skin. He tried his best not to flinch, while his eyes darted wildly to scan the shadowed alley.

_Now it was clear that there are footsteps. One. Two. Eight people?_

A yelp of frustation and fear was heard from the man, who then ran without looking back. He made a huge mistake. The alley was a mistake from the beginning, it was too dark, and it was a dead-end. Sounds of men running ruined the eerie atmosphere and scared away the cats.

One of the man’s pursuers smiled sinisterly. He knew this alley isn’t a long one. There he was, the man they had been chasing. His back was plastered to the wall, having nowhere to escape just as they planned. But–

_Why is this bastard spy still smirking?!_

Up above them, one of the windows cracked into a million of sharp shards showering them. Another man in suit leaped from the window he had just broken, yelling, “Behind you!”

The pursuer’s eyes widened, but he had no time to react after a kick was suddenly planted to his head, knocking him unconscious.

The other pursuers recovered from their shock faster, thus came encircling the spy’s ally and attacked him right to the heart with a knife. The man, who had just landed safely three stories below, quickly dodged the knife and stepped back. When the second attack came, he grabbed his attacker’s wrist and throw him to the ground.

Not too far from him, the pursuer’s original prey was facing a similar problem. Three men were closing in on him, and he he had only managed to take down two when the third prepared to stab him from behind; until a sound of man choking assured him the attacker had been taken care of by his friend.

Fifteen minutes later, the loud voices signaling a fight finally toned down until they couldn’t be heard anymore. In the dark alley were two men standing back-to-back, bodies of unconsicous men scattered around them. Their chest were heaving up and down.

“Say, Miyoshi,” the taller man at last broke the silence, struggling to form words through uneven breath, “was it really necessary for you to smash a fucking _window_?”

Miyoshi seemed offended. He raised a hand to swipe away strands of hair falling to his eyes, but hissed in irritation when he realized his fingers were bleeding from punching a window. “This building is old and I couldn’t open the window pane. Trust me Kaminaga, if I had a better choice, I wouldn’t have chosen this one.”

Kaminaga eyed his partner with annoyance, certain that Miyoshi pulled the stunt simply for show. The narcissist was now off-handedly plucking shards of glass from his hand. Kaminaga couldn’t bring himself to give him sympathy though, it was Miyoshi’s own fault after all. He always suspected Miyoshi to have extreme (masochistic) tendencies–Setting people up for harakiri was one, and this time he was abusing windows. _Wonder when will he actually learn…_

Miyoshi paused digging out shards and innocently glanced at Kaminaga once he felt the older spy’s murderous gaze looming on him. “What?”

Kaminaga groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as he felt a headache coming. “I can’t believe we are forced to retort to using violence _again_ ,” he frowned. “And how are we supposed to explain this to Yuuki-san?”

Contradictarily, the mission started out smoothly and promising; Miyoshi sneaked into a corrupt colonel’s house pretending to be a grandson of a _bushido_ practinioner who used to be an acquintance of the colonel’s late father, while Kaminaga kept watch for any sign of an American spy. Yuuki had been suspecting the colonel–his name was Ishihara–to leak Japan’s secret information about their battleships to America in exchange of money.

Halfway through the mission, Miyoshi had already have enough evidence within his possession and locate the usual meeting place between Col. Ishihara and an American representative–which turned out to be a run-down store–then left an appropiate amount of threats to ensure the American spy’s loss and departure. Kaminaga had also confirmed the name of an American visiting Ishihara’s house after Miyoshi had left.

Unfortunately things went south when the Ishihara became aware that Kaminaga had been watching his house (however he still didn’t have the slightest idea that Miyoshi was also a spy, the idiot). He sent a group of thugs after Kaminaga, who lured them into a trap as he went to collect Miyoshi.

Yes, running away from thugs wasn’t a part of the plan– _but so was window-breaking_.

“We completed the mission, retrieved the evidence, and shooed that American spy away. Yuuki-san has no reason to complain,” Miyoshi shrugged dismissively, as if he was talking about the weather. “Besides, if he actually _does_ get mad, I’ll talk it out.”

Kaminaga rolled his eyes. _Yeah, sure he would_. The amount of trust Lt. Col Yuuki put in Miyoshi sometimes bordered on terrifying. The spymaster probably wouldn’t even asked about the details of the mission, believing that Miyoshi must’ve left no trace. What made it worse is the fact that Yuuki was indeed right–The narcissist was always as undetectable as a ghost.

He decided to let it slide. “Fine. But we can’t leave it just like this, can we? At least tidy them up a little bit,” Kaminaga gestured at the unconscious bodies of his former pursuers, and began rolling up his sleeves. “I’ll get the bodies aside. You put these glass shards away.”

The two spies began cleaning the scene, throwing bodies and kicking shards until Miyoshi was satisfied with the hidden pile of bodies in one dark corner of the alley, and no trace that a window had been destroyed. They slipped out of the alley in casual stance, pretending they were just another men going back from work, then entered the main street.

The district was as bright and lively as Kaminaga remebered. As the skies grew darker, more people–ranging from children to old grannys, lovers to families–came to spend their weekend. Shop attendants offered them various stuff as they passed in front of their stores. Women giggled and men shared perverted jokes from inside the bars. Slowly, Kaminaga could feel himself getting lured in by the festivities too.

“Wishing for some leisure time, Kaminaga?” Miyoshi suddenly taunted, lips curling into a smile. “You have been staring at that jazz club for a bit too long.”

“Well,” Kaminaga chuckled in return, winking a little to a beautiful hostess who waved temptingly at him a second ago, “but Fukumoto is going to make his legendary curry again for dinner, so I guess I won’t be eating out tonight.”

“Aren’t we a little too late for dinner?”

“I have made him swear to keep my ration away from Hatano.”

“Ah, I see. I hope he keeps my ration as well,” Miyoshi sighed. “Don’t forget that we still have to give our report to Yuuki-san.”

The older man surpressed a laugh. “Worst part about our job, isn’t–”

Kaminaga was suddenly cut mid-sentence when someone stumbled into his back, causing him to take a few groggy steps to steady himself from falling over. His mind, meanwhile, automatically went alert mode–he could also feel Miyoshi beside him tensing up. The probability of someone injecting him with a hidden needle was the first thing that came to mind.

However, when Kaminaga turned around, said ‘attacker’ was revealed to be a cute little girl in yukata. The girl seemed confused herself, moreso when she realized she had bumped into a stranger.

The girl–about 6 years old in age– flushed in embarrasment. She deeply bowed, mumbling, “I-I’m very sorry, Sir!” and ran away. Kaminaga shook his head chuckling, muttered something about how cute kids these days were; until he felt a tug on his side.

When he raised an eyebrow to Miyoshi, the younger spy persisted on tugging him using his elbow. His hands were shoved deep in pockets, in order to hide his injured fingers and avoid any unwanted attention. “Look at that,” the narcissist tilted his head to his right, “she accidentally dropped it.”

Kaminaga followed Miyoshi’s eyes and found a small pendant next to his left foot. He picked it up and held it under the moonlight, scratching his chin. “Yuuki-san can wait, right?”

Miyoshi silently approved by nodding in return.

「夢は叶いましたか」

The pair went to the direction which the little girl previously disappeared to, and unsurprisingly found her not long afterwards near a candy shop. Panic washed over her face when she rummaged around, as if looking for something–most likely her lost pendant. A group of other children were helping her, watching closely to the ground.

“Excuse me,” Kaminaga politely said after approaching her. He kneeled until their face were the same height and smiled as he held out the pendant to its owner. “I believe you dropped this. Is this yours?”

Disbelievement stroke across her face until it was replaced with happiness and gratitude. She took the pendant from Kaminaga’s palm. “Thank you so much, Sir,” she shyly bowed, “I apologize for causing you trouble.”

“Don’t mention it. It is always a man’s duty to help the ladies~”

If possible, the girl flushed even deeper.

From behind him, Miyoshi whispered to his partner’s ear, “oi. Flirting with schoolgirls is fancy, flirting with older women is cool; but flirting with children makes you a _pedophile_ , Kaminaga. I’m disappointed in you.” He tried shutting him up with one sharp tug to the stomach–Miyoshi’s smirk only grew more cynical.

“Onii-chan, you’re a failure as a detective! This man here found my pendant faster than you did,” the girl with lost pendant all of a sudden protested to her brother loudly, earning the attention of Kaminaga and Miyoshi both. The girl had her arms crossed over her chest.

A boy with round glasses, who is most likely the girl’s older brother and the person her protest was directed to, huffed in anger. He stuck out his tounge. “I will be a better detective when I am older! Besides, it was just my bad luck. Your pendant is already found now anyway, why are you still complaining?”

Miyoshi instead looked at the boy with an amused expression. “Oh? You want to be a detective when you grow up?”

“Uh, yes…”

“That is such an unusual dream. No offense though, it is a very interesting job nevertheless. Keep working on it, kid.” The bespectacled boy mumbled an inaudible ‘thanks’ in return.

Meanwhile, another boy in the group with a considerably larger build scrunched his nose at Miyoshi’s praise. “But being a detective is a lame job! I’d rather pick something manlier,“ he pointed out.”

“What do you want to be when you’re older, then?”

“I want to work in the military! Swear my loyalty to Japan and make it the best country in the whole world!”

The two spies resisted the urge to snort sarcastically at his statement. Kaminaga’s snort slipped out, therefore he masked it by asking to a random girl, “what about you, young lady? Any job you’re interested in?”

“My dream is to become a popular singer!”

The rest of the kids didn’t want to lose to her either, thus they started one-by-one telling their dream jobs to Miyoshi and Kaminaga. _Silly, naive childish competitions,_ Kaminaga thought. Nevertheless, the men patiently listened to the children as they took turns boasting about what they wanted to be, because they were good people to begin with. The children had various dreams, so to say. _Ramen shop owner. Actress. Mystery writer. Calligrapher. Military police. Scientist. Military pilot. Librarian. Technician._

(And none, none of them dreamed of becoming a spy.)

「夢は叶いましたか」

Kaminaga and Miyoshi finally managed to escape the children’s grasp almost half an hour later, when everyone had became too tired to act tough; and Kaminaga had given them a motivation or two. Miyoshi ordered them to return home immeadiately because ‘it is not good for kids to stay awake at this hour’, and saluted the kids as they fondly waved to the pair, watching their backs blended with the crowd.

“Hey Miyoshi,” the older spy spoke up when the they were far enough to be out of the kids’ hearing radar. Their destination, however, was still around half an hour more of walking. He folded his arms behind his head as he paced. “Did you realize that none of those kids we met before actually think of being a spy as a potential job?”

Miyoshi chuckled lightly. “Why, I suppose it is understandable. Spies aren’t expected to stand out in the society after all, hm?”

He had a point. During war times like these, what caught the interest of children and eventually became idolized by them was the military. Loyal country dogs who looked skillful (and painfully blinded). Kaminaga couldn’t blame the kids, though. The concept of ‘working from behind the scene’ was not something he himself understand when he was a lot younger.

What are the spies to the children’s eyes, then? Fictional, nonexistent beings? Cowards? Optimistically thinking, he considered him and his comrades as crownless heroes, hoping the thought would cease the feeling of being lonely and underappreciated. _It didn’t._

“When I was in grade school, my dream was to be a great doctor. I don’t know why, I just thought curing local people would be cool,” he admitted out of nowhere, to which his narcisstic partner responded with silence.

Yuuki forbade his students from sharing stories about their past lives; but since it was _his dreams_ he was talking about here–which definitely didn’t happen either in the present or in the past–Kaminaga decided that it’d be okay.

He continued, “I planned to open a clinic at my own home, and when I have enough money, build a hospital under my name.“

“You seem to be very keen on it,” Miyoshi at last responded nicely with a crooked grin. “You know; you can still relive your dream. Start a new life as Kaminaga-sensei. After all these ruckus, I mean.” _After the war ends, which might end in either our victory or our loss; if we survive our upcoming missions,_ the more honest unspoken sentence hung awkwardly in the air.

“Yeah,” agreed the other man, fantasizing in his head. He didn’t want to pop his bubble of happiness yet. “maybe I’ll even settle down to one beautiful woman and get married. I want daughters. Two of them, hair soft and cut short…”

“Can you even stop randomly flirting…”

“I heard that you little shit.”

The skies far above them unexpectedly grew darker as it growled a thunder. A drizzle soon followed, and it quickly turned into a heavier rain, forcing them to find shelter unless they wanted to be soaked to their bones. Miyoshi led the two to underneath the front canopy of a bankrupt store, and they proceeded to wait until the rain lessens. The crowd dispersed to get out of the rain and stay dry as, thus the number of pedestrians occupying the street dramatically decreased.

Miyoshi lit up a cigarette, then offered some to Kaminaga, who received it in gratitude. He was a heavy chainsmoker as well, perhaps seconded only by Miyoshi himself.

“Are they soaked?”

“What? No,” the narcissist passed him a lighter as soon as his comrade had taken the cancer stick, “here.”

Their exchange for the next few minutes occured in form of cigarsmoke instead of words, each lost in their own respective thoughts and distorted reflection of neon lights on water puddles; until Kaminaga released a puff of smoke and spoke, “how about you, Miyoshi? Have your dream come true?”

Said man took a long drag, not bothering to face his partner. “My teachers said that with my grades, I’ll be accepted to any kind of jobs I apply to. But I had neither a challenge nor a drive,” he pursued his red, thin lips. “When I saw the opportunity of being a spy, I realize that this is where I belong, and I can get through whatever Yuuki-san throws at me. Be it he sees us as his comrades, allies, pawns, or even _human sacrifices_ ; I believe he isn’t as stupid as plunging talented young men right to their deaths. That’d be a waste.”

His explanation sort of got Kaminaga mind-blown.

“What will become of your dream then, when… all this ruckus meets its end?”

“I am well-prepared, Kaminaga, but I’ve never felt like preparing for that outcome. I don’t care whether we win or lose. Don’t get me wrong, I love my hometown and I can be loyal to Japan as much as those military dogs do; but I fail to see how our victory will bring peace for us,” he nonchalantly shrugged, “so I guess this much is alright.”

Miyoshi, as Kaminaga expected, had a thing for extreme tendencies. Kaminaga considered himself not as a masochist; he somehow still desired to live normally by the ideal a younger version of him had dreamed of.

However he recalled again–about how adrenaline rushed through his body when the Demon King gave him another mission. About the fun he had while playing their unique poker style with his fellow spies. About the relief he felt as he laid his hand on some important information, hoping that it would help to keep his country safe.

The rain hadn’t lessened down, but it sure would eventually stop. Yuuki-san could wait. Fukumoto’s curry could wait. He thought of the thugs he had defeated and how they would wake up with a massive headache; the paths he did take and didn’t take and would take; don’t die and don’t kill; survive, survive, and survive.

Beside him, Miyoshi toyed his cigarette carefully with his wounded fingers, water dripping from his strands of hair. Kaminaga rested his arm on Miyoshi’s shoulder–The shorter spy didn’t seem to mind. Miyoshi wasn’t a bad comrade, maybe he would help him patch up his injuries later; maybe he wouldn’t refuse to meet him when they’re both old and dying (If they were given the chance to grow old).

_Have your dream come true? ___

“Yeah. This much is _alright_.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is also based on a Pixiv work (please check it out yourself, it's somewhere on the internet. I swear these fanarts are piling up in a blink of an eye)  
> I don't usually write something this long... Man, hot guys totally push me beyond my limits.  
> HAVE YOU SEEN THAT pic on the anime official website? The thank you message from the staff? Miyoshi and Kaminaga get touchy-touchy there~ www  
> This is unbeta-ed anyway, I'm sorry for any typos/grammar mistakes!


End file.
